


Peach

by thecarlysutra



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Competition, Dirty Talk, F/M, Food, Food Kink, Fruit, Oral Sex, Play Fighting, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Kissing, Roughhousing, Roughness, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 23:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19840450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: “Hey! I was gonna eat that!”





	Peach

  
“Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

You raise an eyebrow. "You, Dean Winchester, were going to eat a peach? I've never seen you eat anything plant-based. I'm surprised you don't have scurvy." 

"Shows what you know. Most pies are fruit-filled, French fries are made from potatoes, and beer is made from wheat." 

"You're practically vegan!" you say, and bring the peach to your mouth. The fuzz tickles the sensitive skin of your lips, and it smells like heaven. 

Dean grabs your wrist. "I said it's mine." 

You smile. Meet his eyes. And sink your teeth into the supple fruit. Juice runs down your chin, over your fingers, and you lick your lips. For some reason, you expect Dean to drop it now, the way Sam gives up when Dean licks a cookie he's been saving for himself, but that was probably stupid. He's still got your wrist, and his fingers tighten around it, and he smiles in a way that's all challenge. Then he leans in close, lips brushing your sticky fingers, and he takes a big bite from the other side of the peach. 

This. 

Means. 

War. 

Sam is researching in the war room and has asked you both approximately one thousand times to keep it down and behave like adults, but in two seconds you are running through the bunker, Dean lagging a second behind only because you got a head start. You are running as fast as you can while maneuvering to avoid being caught by Dean or running into any obstacles, and you are eating as much of the peach as you can. 

It's sweeter this way, somehow. 

There is nectar running down your arms and dripping on your shirt, and you are two steps down the stairs when Dean grabs you around the middle, pulling you off your feet. You squeal and writhe, but his hold is competent and you're a little winded, and when he lays you down beneath him on the stairs, you don't fight. You're pinned. 

"Brat," he says, and you stick out your tongue before you can help it. 

He wrests the peach from your fist, and finds nothing but the stone. Again, you think this will be the end of it; again, that's a stupid assumption. 

You're covered with nectar, and Dean gets his first taste of it kissing you, his tongue muscling its way into your mouth. He always tastes savory and slightly earthy, and that taste beneath the intense, bright sweetness of the peach is insane. Dean presses you against the stairs, hurting you just enough to appreciate it when his knee juts between your legs, giving you something to rut. He is licking the nectar off your throat, sucking at your tits through your thin shirt, and your fingers in his hair are sticky, the both of you a fucking mess, and he slides down a couple steps, pushing your legs apart to make space for himself. He looks up at you, quirks an eyebrow. 

"Think you're sweeter?" he asks, and your head spins. 

"Only one way to find out," you purr, and he grins, tearing open your jeans and actually ripping the fabric of your underwear, and that smart fucking mouth is just taking its first taste of you when Sam shouts up, "I can still hear you, you know!" 

Dean is quiet a moment, perched between your legs, your nectar on his lips. He winks at you. 

"Sammy!" he yells. "Beer run!" 

"Dean, I am working—" 

"Work somewhere else!" Dean barks. "Take those two twenties outta my wallet, and go away for two hours." 

"Dean—" 

"I'm not moving, so either you do, or prepare for an extended concert from the soprano section." 

"I'm an alto." 

He shrugs. Below, you hear Sam curse, grab his keys, and leave, slamming the door for good measure. 

Dean smiles. "See?" he says. "Easy. Now, where was I—?" 

"Eating a peach." 

"Oh yeah. That's right," he says. He bows his head, his tongue delving into you, and you close your eyes and enjoy the ride.  



End file.
